smh
by LittleDoggo
Summary: a little girl with stupid dreams, and a love for a man whom she has no chance with. T for violence


Your eyes stung as you sat quietly on the cold stone of the throne room, your body shaking, and your pride well and truly in shatters. However, it wasn't the fact that your own betrothed had had you beaten, undressed and cut in-front of so many people that hurt the most. It was more the fact you'd let yourself get into this mess. If only you'd stuck up for your father- Or even Arya that one day back home. Maybe if you could have even sussed his ill intentions when you first met him you would be safe now. Arya had done, but you, the foolish, ungrateful child that you was never listened. You wished you could have gone back and told yourself how awful he truly was under his mask. But you know that wasn't possible. No false hope could safe you from your stupidity. So now you had to face up to your actions.

Luckily for you, the kings uncle had stepped in before things got too rough this time, ordering you on your feet as the kings guard dog handed you over his cape as a way of hiding whatever dignity you had left in you, a gesture that you happily welcomed, wrapping it tightly around your frail body as you slowly stood, your voice trembling as you let out a soft thank you before you stumbled your way to the door, the deep gashes in your legs crying out as you walked. You were surprised you even made it to the door without falling and making a fool of yourself. You hated it here. Why were you so naive? Nothing good ever happens to you, you were a fool to think so in the first place.

After what felt like one of the longest and painfullest walks you've ever experienced, you finally made it back to your room, servants quickly ushering you into the bathroom and removing whatever was left of your dress (not the cape though, you'd asked for it to be left with you so you could personally return it when you felt better) and tending to your wounds while they worked on preparing you a bath. Half of them hadn't tried to comfort you, but a few had. They said foolish things like 'it wasn't your fault my lady' and 'the pain will dull soon enough. It will all feel like a bad dream soon enough.' words that meant absolutely nothing to you at the time, you doubt that they'd ever mean anything. It was your fault. You got yourself into this mess. Soon, the bath was fully run, and you were quickly hurried into it. You didn't like having so many see you in such a wreck. The eyes stung more then anything here.

"I want to be alone."

You spoke in a quiet, but stern voice, the girls quickly nodding and making there way out. One saying they'd return in a while with fresh towels to dry you off. Whatever. You just needed some time to let yourself get rid of the tears that were still fighting their way out your eyes. And, as soon as the girls had all gone, and you had waited a couple of extra seconds just to be sure, you wept. Pretty loudly, as well. You was so tired of it all. Why you? What kind of crime had you committed to end up in this awful state? You just wanted to be happy, with a prince who loved you. What harm was in that?

It didn't matter anymore, though, all you wanted now was safety. And a nice, warm bath and complete isolation surely did feel like safety to you. You'd soon found your tears drying up, leaving a dull pain in your chest as you pulled your body close together, wrapping your arms tightly aroung your legs and resting your head on your knees. Why couldn't you just die? You would prefer that to this. You wouldn't be so broken then. You wouldn't be laughed at everywhere you go. Maybe you would have some pity then. You knew the queen would never let that happen, though. Because she needed you for a play toy for her son. That's all you were to any of them-

Except- for one.

Though, he wasn't a member of the Kings family. No, he was the one who'd tried to help you, telling the king to stop when no one else would. Even giving you his cape to protect your dignity with.

Ser Sandor Clegane was his full name and title. However, he hated being called a Ser, so everyone here just refered to him as the Hound due to his loyalty to the king. however, for one so loyal to the king, he was nice to you. You who the king had no respect for and was seen as just a useless plaything around the castle. It was nice. For all the years you've been here, knowing you had someone so strong and in such a position was really nice. And, while you didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things. You two had common ground. And, he'd protected you way too many times for you to pay him back. Not even with all the kindness in your heart. He was scary though. Sometimes he'd just scare you for the hell of it. It made you sick to your stomach the way he could just change his tone so quickly, but, as naive as you are with most things, you know he won't hurt you. He- doesn't have it in him. And you liked that. You felt like you had some power over him, whatever that power was. It made you feel somewhat strong.

After a while of just sitting quietly, the bath water begun to cool, and you had begun to tire. So, you struggled your way out the bath, quickly looking around for anything to wrap around yourself, obviously, finding nothing but Sandor's cape. Well, at least it's better then nothing, right? (It was pretty comforting actually. He had a nice scent to him for someone who probably just drank and fucked all day. Though, he never seemed the type for whores. So maybe he did just drink through the day, whenever he wasn't killing people on the kings command. ) You quickly picked it up again, throwing it over your wet shoulders and tightly cuddling into it as you made your way out your bathroom and over to your bed, almost instantly getting in and curling up on it. After everything that had gone on that day, you really did need the soft comforts of fluffy feathers and warmth.


End file.
